Rachel (John Lawson Stoddard Poems)
'Twas sunset in Jerusalem; the lightStill lingered on the city's walls, and crownedMount Olivet with splendor, while below,Among the trees ...
John Lawson Stoddard Poems on Hope (13 Poems)
Discouragement (John Lawson Stoddard Poems)
"Forward, comrades, ever forward"!Shout the leaders in the fight;"Scale the ramparts! Plant the standardOn the citadel of light!"Break the chains ...
Leo (John Lawson Stoddard Poems)
I made a journey o'er the sea,I bade my faithful dog good-bye,I knew that he would grieve for me,But did ...
A Story Of The Sea (John Lawson Stoddard Poems)
Were you ever told the legend oldOf the birth of storms at sea?You should hear the tale in a Channel ...
Star Drift (John Lawson Stoddard Poems)
The glaring sun hath ceased to shine;The solemn stars invade the sky;Again the welcome night is mine,Wherein to view the ...
My Library (John Lawson Stoddard Poems)
Shrine of my mind, my Library!Each morn I greet thee with delight,When, soul-refreshed, I bring to theeThe benediction of the ...
Life’s Trilogy (John Lawson Stoddard Poems)
_Youth_ dreams of all the years shall hold,--Of poems writ, of battles won,Of statues made, of love, of gold,And honors, ...
Acqua Fredda (John Lawson Stoddard Poems)
By Acqua Fredda's cloister-wallI pause to feel the mountain breeze,And watch the shadows eastward fallFrom immemorial cypress trees.Like arms outstretched ...
Emily’s Grave (John Lawson Stoddard Poems)
Idly one day in a foreign townIn a churchyard's shade I sat me downBy the side of a little cross ...
Friendship (John Lawson Stoddard Poems)
'Tis not in the bitterest woes of lifeThat the love of friends, as a rule, grows cold;Still less does it ...
Out Of the Ranks (John Lawson Stoddard Poems)
From the bitter fight I have made my wayTo the peaceful crest of a lonely hill,But the noise and heat ...
Influence (John Lawson Stoddard Poems)
We know not what mysterious powerLies latent in our words and deeds,--Sweet as the perfume of a flower,Strong as the ...
Proem (John Lawson Stoddard Poems)
They called him mad,--the poor, old man,Whose white hair, worn and thin,Fell o'er his shoulders, as he playedHis cherished violin,Forever ...